Come Morning Light
by Loreyulia
Summary: Since the moment he had met Italy, not too long ago, he had slowly fallen in love. Now at the end of WWII, they find themselves amidst a heated war. Three times Germany had to sing that simple lullaby, but each time it was to comfort his dearest Italy. Character death, and suicide.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia- Axis Powers/World Series, or the song Safe and Sound, by Taylor Swift & The Civil Wars. Serious disclaimer, is serious. **

**A/N: Hello every one. ^_^ I would like to open this author's note, by saying that I almost have all of my written one shots all typed up. *looks around nervously* This means that until I start writing other works, I probably won't be posting stuff for a while... T_T I have this one, and one other one shot left for now, god I really need to stop being a lazy writer, and get it together. I may or may not start posting some of my multi chap work, depending on what feed back I get from you all. If I do start posting multi-chap work updates will be slow, so I can give my self time to write more chapters, that way I won't get ahead of myself. Any ways, just pm or say in a review what you would like me to do, and I will take all of your words into consideration. **

**P.s. **

**Regular Italics- are song lyrics, that are Germany's thoughts.**

**Italics in BOLD- are lyrics that Germany actually sings aloud. Sure, Germany singing may be an odd thing to envision, but he does sing his own MaruKaite and I think his voice is hawt... *wipes away drool* **

**Oh, and I will have some dialogue in both German, and Italian in here. I will put the translations at the end of the fic, so you can know what they are saying. I personally like to think that in intimate moments, they speak to each other in their own native tongues. Sorry if this is annoying to you, but it's just some thing I personally love in fics that I read. Please enjoy the story my sexy readers ;) **

**Come Morning Light**

"Germany... what's going on?" The effeminate Italian Nation's lower lip trembled slightly, his pleasant Tenor cracking into a wobbly Falsetto at the end. The German man in question let out a sigh laden in lead, an odd mixture of pain, and sympathy settling into his tired features.

"It seems we are at war, Italien." Was his curt, and frustratingly simple response. Italy looked up into pale blue eyes, confusion practically oozing from every last pore in his small body.

"B-but," here the Italian's perfectly sculpted eyebrows came together into a scrunched line, as he worked desperately to figure out the puzzle set out before him. "But why?" Was all he could muster up in the end.

Germany averted his gaze, guilt written in fire engine red ink, all across his face. He sighed heavily through his nose, not wanting to waste the effort explaining to the Italian. Because like most every other war that has ever been fought, no one could really pick one exact reason for the land being torn apart; and innocent lives cut far too short. It would be like explaining to a child the exact science behind the reason why it hurts to touch some thing hot, or why night turns into day. Actually, it might have been simpler explaining to a child, for all the naivety that the Italian Nation possessed.

"Because Italien, the world doesn't exactly share the same views as mien Fuhrer... but really, who could blame them? I am the German Nation personified, und given life, und not even _I_ agree with what is going on here..." Germany tried to fight the way his voice was starting to crack, but in the end had to give up; because not every German man could always be made of stone.

His broad shoulders began to shake ever so subtly, from the effort to contain the heart wrenching sobs, he desperately needed to voice. Yet regardless of every thing, he had to at least stay strong enough for Italy- to show the cowardly Nation that there was hope- because if big, strong Germany wasn't afraid, then every thing was going to be okay.

An invitingly warm palm was placed against a rough jaw, and smooth cheek, those nimble fingers melding perfectly into such rugged contours."Shhh... Non sei preoccupata, tutti sara bene. Sono qui per te." Soft, Golden-brown eyes tried to be as reassuring as possible, even if the German could see the slight hint of fear, that lurked just below the surface.

"Danke Italien... du bist mien Engel in verkleidung." Germany murmured softly against those comforting fingertips, his bright blue eyes shining with raw emotion.

The Italian smiled sadly, his plump, and happy lips drenched in a silent knowing as they placed light kisses against calloused hands. "I know Germany," the smaller man uttered softly, "I know."

~O.o.o.O~

"Germany - Germany!" Italy's shrieks tore at the stagnant air, while two men dressed in perfectly pressed S.S. uniforms, began dragging him away from his companion.

"ITALIEN!" The German roared, trying his damndest to disarm the German troops surrounding him; he only wanted to kill them if he _had_ to. They were still his people after all, regardless of the madness that had infected them.

Germany watched in horror, as the Italian sunk his teeth into the muscular fore arm wrapped around his frail neck. "Du Verdamnt arschficker!" The German officer ground out between clenched teeth, swinging his fist harshly into Italy's mouth.

The blow knocked Italy down to the ground so easily, the poor Nation beginning to whimper, and cry out for his German companion pathetically. Yet through the pain, and the fear, the Italian's shaky arms lifted up his small body. He looked at Germany, trying to smile that easy-going smile he was so famous for; a thin trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, and down that pointed chin.

A heavy, shiny black leather boot came crashing into the Italian's ribcage, causing the frail man to double over in pure agony; a shuddery cough expelling from blood soaked lips. "Schwuchtl!" The S.S. officer with the neat blond hair, and soulless blue eyes shouted, bringing his foot crashing into the Italian's ribs once more. A gun was pulled out from a black holster, and pointed straight at Italy's terrified face; but before even the safety could be unlocked, the officer found a bullet lodged right between his blue eyes.

The second officer, who had been watching this all in sick fascination, met the same fate; two German bodies now lying on the ground, limp and lifeless, their blood pooling and sinking into the soil. Italy was shaking, his scrawny arms wrapped around his head in some vain attempt at protection. Rough hands grabbed at those trembling arms, to pull them away, causing Italy to kick and scream at the new assailent.

"Italy - stop Italy, it's okay! It's Germany, it is okay... you are safe now." The German's words finally sunk into Italy's subconscious, and he stopped clawing at the arms that were trying to cradle him. Those richly colored eyes finally opened, only to be greeted by dead bodies dressed in beetle-black uniforms, strewn carelessly across the ground; a lot like clothes, when two people decided to make love.

"Germany- Germany," Italy broke out into body shaking sobs, instinctually curling into his lover. "N-never... never leave me. Per favore, Io sto pregando che non mi lasciare mai piu..."

Those words tore at the German's heart, bringing the salty sting of tears to those cold eyes. He lifted that fragile body easily into his strong arms, cradling Italy like a child, who had just woken from a bad dream.

_I remember tears streaming down your face when I said, "I'll never let you go." _

_When all those shadows almost killed your light... _

"Italy... will you be okay here all alone?" Germany questioned his small companion, those large hands cupping the Italian's angelic face. The blood had dried upon bronze skin, and make-shift bandages made from beetle-black cloth, was wrapped around those aching ribs.

_I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone." _

_But all that's dead, and gone, and passed, tonight..." _

Germany eventually came back, covered in blood, and looking like shit. He stumbled his way towards the Italian's hiding place, fear gripping like a vice around his heart. He expected the worst; expected to see Italy brutally murdered, or just gone all-together- stolen by the enemy, to be questioned... and tortured beyond imagination. But he found the man still propped up against the wall where he left him, and sleeping peacefully. Germany's heavy footsteps however, woke the sleeping Italian, sending him into a panic; before he realized that it was only Germany.

"Germany... you're covered in b-blood!" Italy jolted upwards, to go and aid the German, but stumbled and fell; clutching painfully at his side. Germany helped up his fallen ally, and let him lean heavily against himself.

"Don't worry Italien, the blood is not mine..." Italy breathed a sigh of relief, feeling overjoyed, because his German was okay. "Come," Germany said suddenly, "let us find some where safe to rest."

~O.o.o.O~

The two weary Nations found a vacant shoe shop to hide in. Germany ripped the boards off of a back window, and broke the glass with his fist; which he had wrapped in strips of his olive green jacket, so the jagged edges of glass couldn't cut his bare flesh.

They lay cradled in each other's arms, in a corner tucked away from prying eyes. Germany was trying his best to fall asleep, but his companion's sobs, and painful groans kept him awake for all the guilt they caused. "Italien, we need to sleep... if we don't, then we might as well just hand ourselves over to the enemy, for all the good we'll be."

"I-I know, but I'm just so... so scared Germany. I'm just so fucking scared!" Italy cried, the memory of that S.S. officer's foot slamming into him mercilessly, all too fresh in his mind. He curled further into the German, as if he was trying to become one with blond, and steal some of his strength.

Those fingers, so used to hard labor, and killing without hesitation; wiped away the Italian's frightened tears, without a second thought. Italy looked up to find cold blue eyes filled with a soft warmth, melting away the ice, leaving nothing but sky blue. The warmth seeped out of those sweetly adoring eyes, making skin crinkle attractively at the corners of Germany's eyes. A gentle smile completed it all, teeth barely peeking through his shapely lips.

Germany ran his fingers through soft Auburn hair, tucking that way-ward curl behind Italy's left ear. "If I sung you a lullaby, would that help you fall asleep?" There was such tenderness in that usually gruff voice that it left Italy speechless; so he just smiled softly, and rested his head over the blond's beating heart.

A rosy blush painted Germany's cheeks in a shy hue, but never-the-less he cleared his throat, and hummed a bit to get his vocal chords warmed up. Dry lips that were cracked, and caked in the rusty hue of oxidized blood, parted slowly; and then a gentle, and rich baritone was unleashed, regardless of how thickly German accented it was.

_**Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. **_

_**You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. **_

Here Germany paused, collecting his sweet Italian into his arms, and kissing the crown of his Auburn hair. An odd mix of guilt, and determination was set into those harsh features, as the blond continued to sing.

_**Come morning light, you und I'll be safe, und sound... **_

Soft little snores let Germany know that he had lulled Italy to sleep. A sad smile touched his lips, but he chose not to dwell upon the gut-wrenching guilt. Instead he closed his eyes, and drifted into a dreamless sleep, until the morning light.

~O.o.o.O~

_-A few months later- _

The screams of hundreds of men, women, and children resounded through the Italian countryside. Blood was spilt, so much blood - and fire. German troops, in their standard olive green uniforms, and shiny metal guns opened fire on anything that moved; regardless of how innocent the life.

"Per favore - Germany, let me go! I need to help them - please, God just let me go. I need to do SOMETHING!" Italy scratched, and bit like a feral cat, at the man holding him back; keeping him from saving his people. "Per favore..." he continues to beg helplessly.

A pained expression was set into the German's features, but he did not loosen his hold upon Italy's thrashing form. "Nein Italien," Germany's deep voice cracked, his body trembling because he hated himself for holding the Italian back; but he had made a promise to protect him always, no matter what. "I cannot do that mein liebe... Es tut mir leid."

_Don't you dare look at your window, darling everything's on fire. _

"Per favore, Germany! Per favore..." Italy's fists beat weakly against that stone hard chest, that shielded his innocent eyes from the reality of what went on outside. Fire ate a path through all of the blood, and carnage, fueling those flames to even greater cloyingly sweet stench of fetid flesh, and metallic smell of blood, made Germany's insides writhe in protest; and saliva rushed forth into his mouth, a prelude to the vomit he would have to hold back. It was like a disgusting incense, that permeated the air.

Sobs tore from the Italian's throat, that once attractive voice shattered, and left a screeching mess. The two were kneeling in Italy's living room on the floor, shaking, and hoping to God that the screaming would end.

_The war outside our door keeps raging on. _

The earth shattering sound of bombs going off finally joined the gunfire, and the screams, sending Italy over the edge. "Per favore Germania," the Italian began to mutter fervently in his native tongue. "Ho bisogno di fare qualche cosa, qualsiasi cosa! Quindi, per favore, lasciami andare!" The roar of the fire outside, almost drowned out Italy's desperate request.

"Nein Italien! Ich habe versprochen, halten sie immer sicher, so werde ich dich nicht gehen lassen out there! Es tut mir leid sie mussen hier bei mir bleiben... Es tut mir leid." Germany replied firmly, holding his Italian tighter, and burying his face into the soft Auburn hair he loved so dearly.

_Hold on to this lullaby- Even when the music's gone... gone. _

A shrill scream ripped unexpectedly passed Italy's plump lips. The pain of losing his people, his land, even his freedom, finally set in; and manifested in the harshest physical form. "It burns Germany, it burns! God please, let it end... make it all stop- just please! Make the burning go away..." Italy slumped fully into Germany's embrace shaking, and whimpering pitifully.

A knife twisted into the blond man's heart. Seeing Italy suffering, and not being able to do a damn thing, ate away at him; much like the flames outside ate away everything without discrimination. "Shhhh... it's okay mein liebe, I'm here- shhhhh, I'm here." Germany comforted, rocking his love to-and-fro gently, hoping he could distract him from the pain.

Angry red marks spread across that flawless bronze skin, turning it shiny, and slightly puffy. Clear boils stood out against the burns, some of them already bursting open; sending puss, and blood every where. The poor Italian fell into a gibbering, quivering heap of agony. He shook without stop, his golden-brown eyes going dim, and vacant as he drew into himself to numb the pain.

Rationality was failing the German, his mouth opening, and closing in pure exasperation. Gloved fingers shook, not knowing where to begin to help soothe the poor man in his arms. So Germany opened his mouth to sing, any thing to keep Italy distracted.

_**Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. **_

Pale blue eyes scrunched themselves shut. Germany wanted nothing more than to take away Italy's pain- if only he could carry it all, deal with the agony himself... because, the innocent, sweet nation never deserved any of this.

_**You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. **_

_**Come morning light, you und I'll be safe, und sound... **_

Those last shaky notes fizzled into blessed silence. Finally, the screaming had ended; the fire slowly being extinguished by the soft pattering of rain. Germany silently began to cry, as the Italian slept.

~O.o.o.O~

Rain fell down in merciless sheets, sharp, and as cold as ice. Two pairs of feet clad in military issued boots, went splashing through the mud, and water. Germany held tightly onto the frail wrist within his grasp, spurring the Italian forward. Italy was panting heavily, his footsteps beginning to falter, and slow down. "Can we stop... just for a moment? Please Germany, I'm so tired..." Italy wheezed, clutching at his side.

"Nein Italien," Germany barked harshly, hoping that would get the Italian motivated. "We stop, we die." Tears welled up in golden-brown eyes, spilling silently over dirty cheeks caked in ash; leaving trails through the grime. Even though the burns were fresh upon bronze skin, and cracked ribs from a few months back weren't quite healed, Italy did as he was told, and kept running.

Italy wondered idly as he ran, how rain so chilling that it soothed his burns, could also feel like white hot daggers digging into his sensitive flesh. Such thoughts were cut short, answers never found. There was gunfire, and Italy was no longer running alongside his companion. No, now he was face down in the mud, five bullet holes standing out against the blue expanse of his back.

Germany faltered in his sprinting, when he realized Italy was no longer by his side. He whirled around to look behind himself, just in time to catch two shots: one right in the chest, and shoulder.

He fell to his knee's, when another went into his gut. The German's eyesight began to go dim, fading in, and out like a lens trying to find its focus. He couldn't let himself black out though, because Italy wasn't moving, and it scared him to death. Tears blurred Germany's further, so now all he could make out was a blob of red hair, against a blue rectangle that served as a body.

Germany was determined to protect his Italy, because he made a fucking _promise_, and he was going to keep it no matter what. So he dragged his heavy body through the mud, leaving thin streams of crimson behind him; like a slug, leaving a viscous trail of slime in its wake. It took a while, but he eventually made it to the Italian's side.

A sense of dread settled in the German's gut, in the same spot where blood pooled out of a nasty wound. Germany sucked in a shuddery breath, before using up what was left of his strength to flip Italy over, and into his lap. He breathed a sigh of relief, when he found those golden-brown eyes still full of life, and those delicate nostrils flaring quickly as Italy struggled to breathe. "Thank God... you're still alive," Germany croaked, his throat closing tightly as he tried not to cry in relief.

"Ludwig..." Italy smiled weakly, his eyes locking onto frightened blue. The use of Germany's true name broke the dam holding back the tears, that now fell down his face shamelessly, mixing with drops of rain. The rain was still unbearably cold, but the blood that was steadily seeping from Italy was burning hot, and staining the German's uniform.

"Feliciano, I'm so sorry! I should have listened to you- we should have stayed hidden, like you practically _begged_ me to do... Mein liebe, Es tut mir leid bitte verzeih mir." Germany was out right sobbing now, trying to hold his love, with out hurting him.

"Please don't cry Ludi... it's okay, I don't blame you. There is nothing to forgive." Italy's weak smile grew a bit stronger, and his eyes so full of pain, softened; reassuring the German that Italy didn't hate him.

The two Nation's stared into eachother's eyes, merely glad that they were still together... because deep down they both knew, that it would be far too sad to die alone. A great, body wracking cough sent Italy's body shaking, blood spilling out of his mouth, and over plump lips. Germany realized then, that things were not going to be okay like he hoped, because blood was filling up the Italian's lungs.

"Feliciano... I need to go find help," Germany whispered, pushing Auburn bangs out of a rain soaked face. He could feel the man's feverish skin through his gloved hands; the cold rain making the skin seem to burn even hotter. "You need to stay here. Try and hold on, until I return."

"No!" Italy cried, making blood bubble from his sweet lips. "You can't leave me - I don't..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, but Germany had the vague inkling of what it was... that he didn't want to die alone. It broke his heart further, because there was nothing else that he could do.

"Okay, Italien. I won't leave you, I'll never leave your side mein liebe." A sad smile touched the German's lips, because of the amount of relief that shone in Italy's eyes.

"Ludwig?" Italy questioned softly.

"Yes, Feliciano?"

The Italian laid a gentle hand covered in mud, and their crimson essence against a strong jaw, that quivered at the soft touch. "Ti amo." _ .You. _

"Oh Italien," Germany sobbed, placing his own hand over the tiny one, that shook against his face. "Ich leibe dich auch." _ . . _

"Sing me that lullaby Ludi, I love it when you sing for me." The brightest smile lit up that paling face, because he loved that German so damn much.

Germany swallowed harshly, and nodded firmly at the request. Any thing for his love... no matter what, he would always at least keep him happy; because that promise to protect the Italian had been so easily broken. He closed his pale blue eyes, committing every last detail of Italy to memory.

_**Just close your eyes **_

Those golden-brown eyes were beginning to grow dim, slowly fluttering shut, but struggling to stay open; just to keep seeing that blond hair, that was falling into the blue eyes he loved so dearly. To see that soft, pale skin forever, and those strong arms that always held him when he was scared.

The strong, and lightly calloused hands that always wiped away his tears, buried themselves into Italy's bright Auburn hair. Their lips met in the sweetest kiss, the cold rain, and aching pain forgotten. A smile spread across the Italian's soft lips, as all the warmth left in his body was stolen, and left tingling upon Germany's pale mouth. He stared down at the limp body, strewn over his shaking arms - and he shook his head wildly, trying to deny what he was seeing.

_**You'll be alright **_

There was no more light left in the Italian's eyes, no more warmth, or love. There would always be a smile gracing those cold lips though, because Italy had died happy. Happier than any one could wish to die really, because his German was right there beside him, to kiss away the tears. A broken sob, that gradually turned to an anguished cry, fell from Germany's lips.

Because... there would be no more frivolous laughter. That happy tenor, that some times grated on his nerves, would no longer be there to tell him that he was loved. Bronze skin would never again, be soft, and warm beneath his finger tips. A gentle smile would never be there to greet him at the end of a really shitty day. Warm, golden-brown eyes could never, ever reassure him that there was always some thing good in the world.

To continue on would be like living a life without food, or sunshine... it would be meaningless, and hollow. Tears, and sobs were so suffocating, that he choked on them; and his heart ached so fiercely... he didn't even get to finish singing Feliciano his lullaby. His lips parted, snot, and tears clinging to them without care.

_**Come morning light **_

Pale, golden rays peaked through the pearly clouds, that had finally stopped pouring tears down from the sky. Dawn, was beginning to break. A shiny hand gun quivered slightly in Germany's gloved fingers. The barrel was pressed firmly against a fragile temple, that pounded dully with waning blood.

The safety was unlocked, an ominous _click_ filling up the silence. Germany took one last look at the limp body, lying in the crook of his other arm; his gaze seeing- but no really seeing. A blissful smile broke out across lips, that once placed gentle kisses against bronze skin, and Auburn hair. "Soon..." he murmured, pushing that way-ward curl behind Feliciano's left ear.

_**You und I'll be safe, und... sound. **_

The trigger was pulled.

~Fin~

**Translations: **

**-Italien: (German) Italy **

**-Mein: (German) My **

**-Non sei preoccupata, tutti sara bene. Sono qui per te: (Italian) don't worry, everything will be alright. I'm here for you. **

**-Danke Italien... du bist mein Engel in verkleidung: (German) thank you Italy... you are my Angel in disguise. **

**-Du Verdamnt arschficker: (German) you damn ass fucker. **

**-Schwuchtl: (German) faggot. **

**-Per favore, Io sto che non mi lasciare mai piu... (Italian) Please, I'm begging you... never leave me again. **

**-Per favore: (Italian) please. **

**-Nein: (German) no. **

**-Mein liebe.. Es tut mir leid: (German) My love... I am sorry. **

**-Per favore Germania: (Italian) Please Germany. **

**-Ho bisogno di fare qualche cosa, qualsiasi cosa! Quindi, per favore, lasciami andare!: (Italian) I need to do some thing, any thing! So please, let me go! **

**-Nein Italien! Ich habe versprochen, halten sie immer sicher, so werde ich dich nicht gehen lassen out there! Es tut mir leid sie mussen hier bei mir bleiben... Es tut mir leid: (German) No Italy! I promised to always keep you safe, so I won't let you go out there! I'm sorry, but you must stay here with me... I am so sorry. **

**-Mein liebe, Es tut mir leid bitte verzeih mir: (German) My love, I am sorry, please forgive me. **

**E/N: Okay, this has never happened before, but I actually started crying while writing the part where Italy died. :( I'm way too emotional... Oh, and please do not report me for using song lyrics in my writing... I've gotten a couple, "Warnings," already. I feel like the work just wouldn't be as impacting if the lyrics weren't there to help tell the story. I take music very seriously, and love songs that evoke intense emotions in me. Just, I'm begging you all not to report me. **


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